Three years after I married, she kicked me three hundred and sixty-seven times.
The day the divorce papers were slapped in my face, the system came. Putting down the bodyguards and crushing the agreement, all eight security guards outside the door lay flat in thirty seconds. My ex-wife knelt on the ground and grabbed my trouser legs, and I opened her fingers one by one.
Three years ago, my father jumped off a building and his assets were swallowed up. I thought she was the only one holding me back in this desperate situation, but later I found out - that cup of tea, that smile, and those words "you are mine" were all part of his father's merger plan.
I endured it for three years. I won't sign today. It's my turn to fight back.
